A delicate balance

“The pattern is similar all over the world – post-industrial areas and working-class districts are being transformed into trendy districts, where real estate prices, tourism and economic profits quickly become more important than art and culture”. 

The interview was first published on the Dwutygodnik website

VIRA BALDYNIUK: How did your journey as a researcher begin? What led you into the field of urban cultural development and which methods do you use in your work?

BASILE MICHEL: My background is in social geography, and I’ve always been interested in the spatial aspects of creative dynamics within cities — specifically, the intersection of urban spaces and culture, as well as the influence of what we call cultural and creative industries. I mainly focus on smaller-scale forms, such as associations and institutions, to explore their impact on cities, particularly concerning social change, economic development, and urban transformation. From the start, I’ve embraced an interdisciplinary approach, preferring to study how various aspects intertwine rather than isolating them into separate fields. I consider the arts both as a key element of life in society as a potential source of emancipation and imagination, and as powerful indicators of the challenges facing contemporary cities like gentrification, socio-spatial inequalities, social cohesion, commodification, etc.

In my work, I observe how certain city districts experience a high concentration of cultural activities, leading to spatial clusters or agglomerations. It’s fascinating to see how these areas evolve, sometimes undergoing gentrification, or on the contrary – how they produce and  foster social cohesion and community ties. As a geographer, I do a lot of fieldwork — walking through city streets, visiting cultural venues, and observing both the events and everyday life within these districts. I aim to capture the essence of urban social life through direct observation and in-depth interviews with residents, cultural stakeholders, and local authorities to gather insights on their practices, projects and collaborative networks.

I also conduct online research to pinpoint significant cultural hubs since no comprehensive data or maps exist for creativity centers at the district level. I build these maps myself. I also use quantitative methods like network analysis, textual analysis. This data is essential in understanding how the artistic and cultural dynamics influence and shape the city.

Usually, when speaking with artists and local authorities, their perspectives are quite opposing. Local officials often believe they fully support artists’ needs, while artists frequently feel overlooked and even betrayed. What has been your experience during your research?

Interestingly, in many cases — especially within spontaneous artistic districts — artists are not seeking support. They resist institutionalization and prefer the freedom to operate independently, outside of spaces planned and designed by authorities. My first fieldwork experience was in Nantes, in the district of Olivettes, a vibrant, spontaneous cultural area home to artists, architects, independent entrepreneurs, and designers. There, the community has a strong sense of place, often in opposition to local public authorities. Residents feel that Olivettes has an authentic spirit, unlike the neighboring, government-sanctioned area, which they refer to as “official district”. They share a deep sense of belonging and pride in being part of independent and free Olivettes.

Throughout my research in Nantes, Grenoble, and Marseille, I worked independently while writing my Ph.D. thesis. It took me three years to conduct these case studies alone. Later, I became a researcher and lecturer at the Ningbo University in China, which gave me the chance to study similar cases in Shanghai and Beijing. Currently, I conduct extensive fieldwork in various northeastern districts of Paris, such as Canal de l’Ourcq and Romainville. The research in these districts consisted of hundreds of interviews, mainly with cultural and creative entities, but also with residents, government representatives, some were accompanied by the creation of a mental map.

Canal de l’Ourcq, photo by Basile Michel

Do the authorities use your research in their city policies?
In some cases, yes. For example, in Canal de l’Ourcq, I collaborated with cultural venues and a local tourism agency on a collective project to establish the area as a cultural district. They invited me as an expert to provide insights on the unique characteristics of the district’s social and artistic life. This was a valuable opportunity to offer guidance before the project began and observe how it unfolded in practice.

You mentioned your work in China. Your book includes compelling examples from Western European countries, as well as some from Asia. Could you share your observations on the commonalities across these contexts, and the unique features that are essential to consider when studying creative districts?

The Asian context is indeed unique, with very distinct economic, political, and urban realities — even within individual regions of the same country. As a geographer, I’m acutely aware of the territorial context and the specific characteristics of each area I study. Still, there are similarities in the dynamics, particularly in the interplay between art and urban evolution. For instance, tourism-driven gentrification can be observed in both Shanghai and Paris, and it operates in remarkably similar ways.

In China, I focused on districts in the cities of Shanghai, Beijing and Ningbo. In Shanghai’s M50 district, for example, artists initially took over abandoned industrial spaces to develop their work. However, after the government assumed control, the area underwent significant transformation. Many artists relocated to rural areas to escape this control and avoid the commercialization of their art, as these districts became more tourist-oriented and less focused on genuine artistic creation. Today, places like M50 in Shanghai and District 798 in Beijing rank highly on tourist must-see lists, now integral to the cities’ official images. This contributed to the global promotion of Chinese contemporary art.

The diversity of art in these areas is striking — paintings, traditional Chinese art, contemporary works, and sculptures all coexist. Yet, it’s more a matter of cohabitation than true collaboration, as each artist operates their own tourism-oriented venture.

According to official Chinese government data, the latter districts host more than 300,000 visitors a year, and a significant proportion of whom are foreigners, nearly 22%.

Since 2005, the Chinese Communist Party has actively promoted creative industries to bring soft power, stimulate economic growth, and drive urban regeneration. They’ve been instrumental in transforming former industrial zones like M50 into tourist attractions by fostering the presence of artists, galleries, and cultural venues. In this sense, the approach mirrors that of Europe: culture is instrumentalized for urban and economic development.

M50, photo by Basile Michel

The practice of squatting or occupying buildings seems to be diminishing, don’t you think? With rising energy costs and changing cultural demands, long-established bookstores, cafés, and galleries in squatted areas are disappearing from city maps. Do you believe that artist squatting remains a viable and progressive means for independent artists to claim spaces?

It’s difficult to predict the future, but there is indeed a pressing issue with urban wastelands and spontaneous artist occupations in cities today. I’ve observed a decline in available spaces for underground artists due to urban regeneration projects and gentrification. Nowadays, many urban wastelands are occupied by temporary cultural projects, often commissioned by real estate developers or municipalities. This represents a form of appropriation, where institutional urban development actors leverage cultural and underground artists — some of whom have become professionals — for the temporary use of these vacant areas. Numerous examples of this can be found in and around Paris, where temporary cultural venues with an artistic dimension, but primarily commercial aims, are proliferating.

Typically, these temporary cultural projects emerge before real estate development begins. This is especially prevalent in northeastern Paris, where such projects occupy spaces before underground artists can claim them for living or working. Although these projects provide artists with temporary workspaces and platforms to share their art, they are short-lived, and artists often find themselves in a constant search for new spaces, typically located on the city’s periphery.

From an urban development perspective, these projects have positive aspects: they upgrade abandoned wastelands with cultural and community activities, create a favorable image for art, and prevent unwanted squats before real estate projects commence. However, the main challenge lies in determining the primary beneficiaries — artists, residents, private developers, or local authorities. The objectives vary: some projects prioritize real estate development, while others focus on enriching the local community’s cultural and social life. In some cases, there is genuine community engagement, with art playing a significant role in social cohesion.

A significant concern is the level of artistic freedom within these projects. Artists may find their ability to be critical constrained when reliant on private investors. Some independent artists avoid these projects voluntarily, while others feel they have no choice. Temporary art projects are often surrounded by a consumer-driven, festive atmosphere, where artistic creation sometimes becomes secondary or less meaningful.

The subtitle of my book “The ambiguity of art and culture in a post-industrial city” is relevant here, as it reflects the uneven and complex relationship between art and urban spaces. The artists are at the heart of ambivalences. There are inherent tensions: artists or cultural actors find themselves at the center, making choices yet often overwhelmed by real estate speculation. Although they can’t control or mitigate these dynamics, they inevitably become a part of them.

Basile Michel is the Professor of Geography at Cergy Paris University and a member of the PLACES and ESO research centres. He completed his doctoral thesis at the University of Angers in years 2014-2017, and in 2018 took up a position as associate professor at Ningbo University in China. His research explores the links between arts, culture and cities and hence a number of studies and publications on creative and cultural districts.

In your book, you were quite critical of initiatives like “showcases of best practices” and the Global Cultural Districts Network. What benefits and drawbacks do you think international networking brings to cities?

Yes, I am somewhat critical of the trend toward the policy transfer and circulation of urban models that are being replicated in metropolises and smaller cities worldwide. Although these models are sometimes adapted to local contexts — as seen in China, where cultural districts also serve to control artists within an authoritarian framework — they often follow a familiar narrative. Typically, former industrial areas or working-class neighborhoods are transformed into trendy districts, with objectives that prioritize real estate, tourism, and economic gain over art and culture. While each district’s trajectory is complex and influenced by various factors, this replication trend suggests attempts to plan artistic creation. However, cultural dynamics tend to thrive more organically in spontaneous cultural districts. Leaving certain spaces undetermined, where artists and other city players can take the initiative, may be more conducive to authentic creativity than areas overtly shaped by developers. This requires a delicate balance — supporting artistic work without falling into heavy-handed instrumentalization, where art becomes a mere tool for marketing and tourism branding.

Take, for example, the context of Central and Eastern European countries. Urban development policies must be tailored to each city’s unique context, as there is no universal “best model” that can be replicated everywhere. “Best practices” do not exist in a one-size-fits-all form. Every area has its own particularities, which demand specific actions and projects that engage with local communities and contexts.

In France, we have numerous examples of areas with distinctive configurations, such as the “faubourgs” near city centers. These are former working-class quarters with small streets and shops, built during the early industrial revolution to accommodate workers. The urban landscape inherited from the industrial times additionally facilitates contacts, for example in the case of the district Panier in Marseille. The narrow streets, small apartments, public space owned by residents, all this “closeness” of everyday contact led to specific neighbor relations, good or difficult.  Today, as these areas have become central or peri-central districts, there are urban projects which try to rethink their functionality and role within the urban landscape. Considering the unique history, urban configuration and social geography of these former “faubourgs” seems to be a prerequisite for designing relevant urban projects here.

While cultural dialogue and exchange are essential to appreciating urban diversity, we must resist the urge to simply replicate models that have been implemented elsewhere. Instead, the focus should be on understanding the unique characteristics of each city and adapting accordingly.

About the Global Cultural Districts Network, it probably offers a space for exchange and discussion between different cultural and urban operators around the world. But this type of network also contributes to the policy transfer of cultural and creative districts planned and used by private developers. That’s why we may often observe homogenization of ways of developing and planning the city. Not to mention the social consequences of many cultural-based urban policies.

798, photo by Basile Michel

Artistic districts often seek visibility to attract and engage audiences, fostering lively exchanges. However, at a certain point, they catch the attention of tourists and become popular Instagram spots, which often leads to gentrification. Do you think this is inevitable?

I believe the role of artists in gentrification needs reevaluation. Researches show that while artists contribute to the atmosphere and visibility of a neighborhood, they play a minor role in driving gentrification; the primary driver is the free real estate market. Artists shape the district’s image and public presence, but it’s ultimately a matter of political choices when it comes to urban regeneration projects. Decisions made by developers and public authorities — such as who benefits from the project and what happens to the local population, especially the lower-income residents — are key. Often, the objective is to create a city that’s more appealing to investors, tourists, and a wealthier demographic, as cities compete to attract these groups. I believe gentrification is not inevitable. While complex, it is not a mechanical process. Some political initiatives attempt to limit gentrification by promoting social housing or reserving spaces for artists. However, it’s difficult to implement measures that can genuinely counteract the gentrification process.

Take Bristol’s Stokes Croft area, for example. There, a grassroots mobilization group People’s Republic of Stokes Croft created a space for spontaneous dialogue between artists and residents, promoting local heritage and community values. They formed a collective to fight private investors who sought profit in the district. By purchasing properties collectively, they were able to remove some buildings from the speculative real estate market, creating spaces accessible to the local community. They also used different interventions, organizing graffiti competitions and other cultural events, online communication via the website and social networks. They based their work on the presence of numerous artists, the history of the area and the significance of graffiti in local urban practices and landscapes.

The similar story we can find in the city of Nantes, which has two cultural districts, settled on both sides of the river: one because of conscious urban policy, the other – Les Olivettes, the result of grassroots activities. In Olivettes the collective approach allowed artists and entrepreneurs to share the costs of property ownership. They sublet spaces to other artists and designers at fair rates, enabling them to remain in the district despite high rents that have been climbing for decades. But of course, the forces of urban neoliberalism and the free market are powerful and pervasive.

What do you think about the influence of such a factor as aging population on the development of the city, its artistic life?

As for the aging population, it significantly impacts urban development. This can have major implications for cities, particularly cultural districts, which tend to be noisy and bustling with concerts, festivals, and events. Many elderly residents may prefer quieter environments, prompting them to leave. For example, longtime elderly residents along the Canal de l’Ourcq in Paris have moved out as the area has transformed with lively cultural and artistic activities, especially at night and on weekends.

This raises questions about accessibility and inclusivity in cultural venues, particularly for older people. If cultural actors aim to create spaces open to everyone, they face a real challenge in balancing the needs of diverse age groups within the community.

The study of cities is incredibly dynamic, as conditions change rapidly. Take, for example, Richard Florida, who wrote The Rise of the Creative Class in 2002. Years later, he revisited his ideas in The New Urban Crisis, acknowledging his earlier misconceptions and emphasizing the importance of public transportation, affordable housing, well-paid services, and other aspects of urban life that can improve city living. Reflecting on your own journey in studying cities, have you had moments of rethinking your beliefs?

The relationship between art, cities, and people is a vast topic, and I feel I’m only beginning to scratch the surface. The deeper I dig, the more interconnected topics I discover. One thing that particularly surprised me was the pervasive strength of urban neoliberalism. At the start of my research, I wasn’t fully aware of its power and the extent to which it influences urban planning. Years of fieldwork have since revealed how deeply embedded the instrumentalization of culture has become in city policies, often for economic or tourism-driven branding and marketing. This trend has been especially pronounced over the past decade, as cultural policies often use art as a tool for branding — sometimes at the cost of social inclusion. While there have been some adjustments and changes in the way such policies are implemented, much of the logic from two decades ago persists and continues to evolve.

Of course, the degree of neoliberal influence varies by location. In France, for instance, cities are somewhat more protected than those in the United States, where the dynamics can be more intense and even violent. But neoliberalism is present here, too. It’s unfortunate to see cities competing rather than cooperating to attract visitors, as they strive to survive within this commercial logic. We live in a world marked by competition, segregation, tension, and social fragmentation.

Despite this, there remains an ambivalence in the relationship between art and cities, one that can still foster social cohesion and connections. This intersection of complex processes remains fascinating to me as a researcher and I’m developing research on cultural projects that seek to go beyond the neoliberal “creative city” and its narrative of attraction and economic development. I am currently leading a research project on socio-ecological issues in France’s cultural sector — specifically exploring how cultural production and dissemination can be reimagined with socio-environmental sustainability in mind, and how these efforts can contribute to a more sustainable world.